soon.'
Kirill fought to suppress a grin and failed. 'Well, Tess, one woman and twenty-seven men-I don't count the pilgrims, you understand-what do you expect? But no one expected Fedya.'
'Yuri might have,' she muttered.
'Yuri refused to wager.'
'Good for Yuri,' she said, and then she laughed. 'Gods, how lowering. Did everyone know?'
'Tess, we're not stupid. Or blind.' He smiled very sweetly, and she reflected that he was, after all, a good looking man, and well aware of it. 'After all, my heart, some of us might have entertained hope for ourselves.'
'Don't even try to kiss me, Kirill. I'm not in the mood.'
Color infused his cheeks. 'But, Tess-'
'What does all this have to do with Bakhtiian anyway? Or was everyone wagering on him?'
'Don't blame me. I didn't wager on him.' He grew serious suddenly. 'But the odds were overwhelmingly in his favor.''
'Oh, Lord,' Tess sighed.
'I've never seen a woman so impervious to Bakhtiian,' he went on, 'and certainly never an attractive woman, and every man, every man in the world, looks twice at the woman who doesn't look twice at him.'
'So you wanted to show Bakhtiian that I was more interested in you than in him.'
'Well.' He straightened a sleeve that already lay perfectly in place and brushed a nonexistent strand of hair away from his cheek. 'Yes.'
Tess considered Kirill. He smiled, recognizing her scrutiny for what it was and, with that careless confidence that was a large part of his charm, not fearing her judgment. Yes, he would be very easy to take as a lover. And Bakhtiian would be furious. She laughed, knowing that to take him as a lover just to anger Bakhtiian was not only unfair to Kirill but all too revealing about how she might actually feel about Ilya.
'I hope,' he said, a little on his dignity now, 'that I am not that easy to laugh at.'
'Why do you resent him? I can understand about your wife, but still, Yuri says that he rarely takes any woman up on her offer.''
'That's true. It's no wonder he's so foul-tempered all the time. It isn't really about my wife.' He considered her in his turn, but now as if deciding whether to really confide in her. 'I'm only five years younger than he is. We grew up together, and I remember him as a child. He changed. At first, when he came back from Jheds, it was easy to believe in what he dreamed of. But he kept changing. He got harder and colder, and he shut out all of those who had once been his friends and companions until all he saw was the vision that leads him. Oh, I still believe in it. Never doubt that. But Bakhtiian is not the same man he was. I remember that day when he stood up in front of the assembled Elders of twenty tribes and told them that the path they had chosen for the tribes was the wrong one. Of course, they immediately agreed with him, and apologized, because he's always right.'
'Yes, he is always right, isn't he? He has to be. I think you're the only one who understands.'
'No, you're the only one who understands. Not even Niko-but I won't say a word against Sibirin. When you decided to come with us, Tess, I waited. I knew Ilya would run you into the ground and send you back to the tribe, but, by the gods, you kept riding. It had been years since I last saw him bested like that.' He stood very still. The last light caught red streaks in his hair, like tiny fires in gold. 'And I've been waiting ever since.'
'Waiting for what?'
'He doesn't like to lose. And if there's anything I hate, it's a person who can't concede even one race, even if the other rider took the course fairly and rode the better race that one time. What does it matter anyway? One race?'
She stared at him as if his whole character had been illuminated for her in that instant. 'Bakhtiian couldn't be who he is if it didn't matter to him,' she replied, realizing it herself as she spoke.
'I suppose I feel sorry for him in a way. He'll always miss the best part of life for trying to grab hold of what's out of his reach.'
Tess felt a sudden flood of warmth for Kirill, who trusted her enough now to reveal so much of his soul to her. 'What is the best part of life, Kirill?' she asked softly.
He shrugged and looked suddenly and incongruously diffident.
She almost laughed, because without knowing it, he had chosen in that instant the surest way of winning her over. Instead, she placed her hands, palms open, on his chest, looking up into his face. His eyes were a deep, rich blue, like the late afternoon sky reflected in water. Solemn, his face had a kind of repose that suited his features unexpectedly better than the quicksilver smiles that usually characterized him. 'I think it's going to be cold tonight.' She kissed him on the mouth.
Quite abruptly, he flushed pink, and he lowered his gaze from hers. 'Tess,' he murmured. He glanced at her, and she saw to her great satisfaction that he was both surprised and elated.
'Well,' she said, stepping back from him, 'I'm hungry. Aren't we going to eat?'
He laughed. 'How like a woman. Yes, Tasha made stew.'
They walked back together. She felt disgustingly pleased with herself and would not have cared for the world if everyone knew-but Kirill acted with the greatest discretion, not sitting with her, not treating her any differently than he ever did, so that when she parted with Yuri to go to her tent, Yuri did not even suspect.
Sitting on her blankets, listening to the mellow howl of the wind while she took off her boots, shivering a little, she began to wonder if he had changed his mind. But there was a sudden, quiet scuff outside and then he tumbled in, laughing under his breath. She was so surprised she grabbed him, and he, quick to take advantage, embraced her and buried his face in her neck.
'Ah, gods,' he murmured into her hair, 'that damned Bakhtiian is still awake. What a canny piece of tracking it took to get in here unseen.''
She began to laugh, because his excitement was infectious, and because he was very warm and very close.
'Shh, Tess.' He laid a finger on her lips. 'This is a small camp. Do you want everyone to know?'
'Won't they know soon enough anyway?' she asked, feeling a surge of recklessness, now that she had made her choice.
She felt him grin against her cheek. 'I'll wager you, my heart. How many days-no, nights-do you think we can keep this a secret?'
'What will the stakes be?'
'Why, kisses, of course.'
'Just kisses? Surely we can risk higher stakes than that.'
'Then name your stakes. By the way, here, I brought an extra blanket for you to borrow. It is a cold night, after all.'
'You're smug tonight, Kirill.'
'Don't I have every reason to be?'
She did not bother to reply, at least not in words.
CHAPTER TWENTY
'Many fires burn below the surface.'
Later in the night, it began to drizzle. Kirill stirred and sat up, waking her. 'Where are you going?' she whispered. In the darkness, he had to struggle a bit to find and put on his clothing. 'I'm leaving.'
'But it's raining.'
She felt him shrug. 'What's a bit of rain? Tess, I am not so ill-bred as to flaunt my good fortune to the others by being found here in the morning.'
'My, Kirill. Nobility suits you.'
